


warmth and comfort

by autistic_nightfury



Series: things i keep on the shelf of my heart [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), But not in a sexual way - Freeform, Childhood Trauma, Daddy Issues, Depression, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, chan calls woojin dad, dont read if youre easily triggered, just a fucked up "my father didn't love me" kind way, please be careful with this!, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 04:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18381302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autistic_nightfury/pseuds/autistic_nightfury
Summary: "Dad is here."





	warmth and comfort

**Author's Note:**

> this is purely a vent fic cause i needed to put it somewhere else than my skin
> 
> this starts with a scene with self harm, and there is a referenced suicide attempt. please be careful while reading this

There was blood on his jeans.

He sighed, staring at the crimson lines on his arm. One time his former therapist had asked him why he even starting cutting himself, and the worried look he had been given when he said he liked the pain had convinced him to lie his way out of all their sessions.

“Chan!” The banging on the door startled him, and he cursed as his knife fell to the floor, clattering. He tried to cover it up, but then the door swung open, and Woojin was standing there, the pretty smile gone, replaced with shock, sadness, frustration-

Chan broke down.

 

When Woojin got off the phone with Chan’s mother, it was late. He sighed heavily, putting his phone down on the table as he turned to look at the man lying on the couch.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Woojin.” He sighed again, sitting down on the floor so he could look at Chan. He looked so frail in this position, eyebrows drawn together in an emotion that Woojin couldn’t understand.

“It’s okay, I’m always worrying about you.” Woojin noticed the sharp intake of air from the younger, and was quick to place a soothing hand on his cheek. “And it’s not bad. It’s because you’re my friend.”

“What did my mom say?” And Woojin’s heart shattered; Chan didn’t like talking about his mother with Woojin, mostly because she hated the older man.

“She couldn’t quite hide her distaste for me, but she still understood why you wouldn’t want to go to your parents house right now.” Chan huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms but then wincing when it put pressure on his wounds.

“Stay?” And Woojin could never say no to Chan, but especially not when tears were brimming his eyes, and his hair was a mess from him running his hands through it.

“Always.”

 

He felt ashamed.

Chan always did after episodes like this, but especially when Woojin was involved. He felt guilty, that he was the cause of so much pain and worry; when he thought back on it, he had always been. From the first time they met, when Chan was just a scared seventeen year old, two steps away from flinging himself off of a roof, and when a twenty five year old Woojin had stepped out for a smoke break; they had stared at each other, and then Chan had started sobbing, and if Woojin hadn’t grabbed him and lead him away from the edge he probably would have fallen to his death that day.

“I can practically hear your thoughts Chan.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Woojin tightened his arms around him, pressing a small kiss to his head.

“Of course you do.” Chan did try to hold back the tears, he truly did, but Woojin was warmth, and comfort, and everything Chan didn’t get enough of as a child. He curled up against the older man, hiccups spilling from his mouth between sobs.

“I-I’m sorry Dad…” Woojin just cooed, pulling him closer and rubbing his back. The first time Chan had called him Dad, in the midst of the younger dissasociating, they had both stopped, staring at each other, before Woojin cradled him carefully, whispering ‘Dad is here, it’s okay’ in his ear.

“I’m not mad, it’s okay, Dad’s not mad.” Chan nodded frantically, fist rubbing at his eyes to rid them of their tears.

 

He never told his coworkers the age of his roommate and best friend, mostly because they knew how he didn’t like people bringing him up.

“You look like shit, hyung.” Felix noted as he sat down with his lunch, and Woojin just grumbled, mouth full of chicken sandwich.

“Chan had a rough night, and-” Felix interrupted him with a wave of his dainty hand.

“Yeah yeah, you had to take care of your boyfriend, I get it. Doesn’t change the fact that you look like garbage.” They didn’t talk much more after that, enjoying each other’s company in silence before Felix glanced at his watch and cursed, running back to the front desk.

Another reason he didn’t tell them Chan’s age? Because everyone assumed they had something together; they had seen the way Chan clung onto the older man in public, the way he watched him intently when he spoke.

Sometimes he wished Chan was older, just so they didn’t have to walk on eggshells around the subject. The younger’s mother didn’t like him, as she told him every time she met him, specifically because she felt like he was corrupting him. The first time that had happened Woojin had looked in the bathroom mirror a long time, carefully cataloguing the ways he was bad for Chan. His facial piercings, the tattoos on his chest and arms, the way he couldn’t keep his hair a natural colour. Chan had noticed, of course, and given him a long hug and a kiss on the cheek, telling him to not take his mother’s words to heart.

When you’re twenty six and fall in love with an eighteen year old, people usually look down on you, tell you that something is obviously wrong with you since you can’t find someone your own age. But that wasn’t why.

He had fallen in love with Chan because he saw someone who was worthy of being loved, but didn’t believe it.

 

“You look really good in red.” Chan mumbled, holding Woojin at an arm’s length. The older shrugged, but a small smile crossed his face nonetheless.

“I did my best.” He twirled around, showing off his outfit; black skinny jeans, combat boots, a white button down shirt and a red bomber jacket ontop. Chan felt his breath hitch in that familiar way, the way only Woojin could cause.

“When will you be back? Do you want me to stay up?” And when Woojin giggled, Chan swore to a god, any god that might be listening, that he would do anything to keep Woojin happy.

“Around ten, and I’d love if you waited for me.”

 

Woojin didn’t really care for parties, but Jisung had sounded so excited on the phone that he couldn’t say no.

“Hey there, you look lonely.” A girl walked up to him, words slurred and the drink in her hand dangerously close to spilling.

“And you look like you’re about to fall over.” He guided her gently to the couch, patting her on the head gently when her flirty demeanor sank to reveal a quite childish one.

“You’re such a dad.” Minho laughed when he retold the encounter, and suddenly all he could think about was Chan, Chan waiting for him, Chan calling him Dad, Chan holding onto him like his life depended on it-

“I’m leaving early.”

 

Chan hated his hormones.

Here he was, rutting against Woojin’s mattress, desperate whines escaping from his mouth, only because the older man had looked so good in his outfit. Tears slipped from his eyes, ignored in favor of trying to just get over with it.

They could never work, he knew that; Woojin was too old for him, and Chan was too fucked up. For gods’ sake, he called him Dad!

The tears were heavier now, streaming down his face as he let the self hatred roll over him.

“Chan?”

 

Woojin didn’t know what he had expected, but this was definitely not it; Chan, grinding on his bed, cheeks wet with tears? Never in a thousand years would he imagine that actually happening. Imagining it, wondering if Chan bit while making out, or if he liked to be on top, or if he liked having his hair pulled, or if he was loud? Yes, but he had regarded that as a dirty secret, something he would pull out during late nights to sate the loneliness that came over him when he was without the younger.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’m disgusting-” He crawled onto the bed, pulling Chan into his arms, shushing him until he was only whimpering.

“Dad’s home again, it’s alright baby, Daddy’s here.” And Chan started sobbing again, wrapping himself around Woojin despite his near nakedness, and the older let him, just held onto him, stroked his hair and kissed his cheeks.

“I’m sorry Dad, I’m gross-” Woojin put a finger over Chan’s lips, shaking his head softly.

“What did I say last night?” Chan fiddled with his fingers, foot bouncing anxiously.

“That I don’t have to apologize…” Woojin nodded, pushing up his chin with two fingers.

“Daddy loves you.”

 

Chan couldn’t help when he started sniffling again, and he was eternally grateful when Woojin offered to share his bed; he got to to wear the t-shirt the older had been wearing to the party, and as he snuggled into the Woojin’s sheets he felt his heartbeat slow down to a healthier pace.

“I love you too, Dad.” He mumbled when Woojin laid down behind him, and the older pulled him close and kissed him on his head.

“Did it get bad after I left?” Chan knew the question had been coming, but he still shrunk as he tried to formulate an answer.

“Yeah.” Was the only thing he managed to get out, and Woojin stroked his shoulder softly.

“Text me next time, okay?”

 

He regretted bringing Felix to his apartment as soon as they stepped in, because Chan was lying on the floor, wrapped in Woojin’s blanket as he rocked back and forth.

“Baby, what happened? Why didn’t you text me?” His heart broke when he saw Chan’s face, red and swollen from crying, and he wanted to sweep him up and protect him from the world; he couldn’t because Felix was still standing next to him,.

“I’m sorry Daddy.” Felix’s eyes widened, and he mumbled something about privacy before slamming the door behind him as he left.

 

Chan didn’t know how they had ended up like this; one minute he had been sobbing in Woojin’s arms, babbling apologies, and the next he was pressed to the ground with an iron grip.

“You’re not a burden, okay baby? Say it.” And Chan squirmed under Woojin’s gaze, tears streaming down his face as he shook his head.

“I’m a burden, I’m sorry Dad-” He had imagined it before, their first kiss; in a bed before falling asleep, on the couch watching TV, or sitting by the river and drinking until they were both giggly messes. He imagined it would be soft, and gentle. But here he was, held down by Woojin, on their kitchen floor, chapped lips desperately pressed against his own.

He responded of course, threw his arms around Woojin’s strong neck, wrapped his leg around his hips. It was salty from his tears, and rough from frustration, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

 

“I love you.” Maybe they were messed up, and maybe they shouldn’t do this, but Woojin didn’t care.

 

“I love you too.” Chan knew that even if he didn’t feel safe anywhere else, he could always come running back to Woojin.

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all, i made a nsfw twitter? i dont really know what im doing with it but its fun so far, i'm @/toothywoochan, and my curiouscat is in my profile, under the same name


End file.
